


Castle of Thorns

by starjay



Category: K.A.R.D (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gang Violence, M/M, Undercover Missions, i have many regrets, this ended up really tae centric lol sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starjay/pseuds/starjay
Summary: His mission was about sending a pawn to capture the king, after all, but a pawn can easily turn into a queen if it reaches the other end of the board alive.





	1. I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been procrastinating on this fic for over a year now, so even though I'm not 100% satisfied with it right now, I'm just super happy it's finally done so I can post it haha
> 
> Huge thanks to Kiki for proofreading this as always (and blue - kinda :P lol jk I love you!)

_Confidential._

Taehyung had been staring at the glaring red letters stamped at the very top of the manila envelope for the past ten minutes, and he was starting to hate the word.

He had been given dangerous missions in the past, those that had ‘top secret’ written across everything; the ones that required him to drop a bomb on an abandoned warehouse at godforsaken hours or jump out of helicopters to prevent assassinations halfway across the world. As a member of Suseo Police Station’s special missions unit - and the ace, at that - Taehyung was much too familiar with what that single word entailed.

That’s why he'd been staring at it for ten minutes, rather than going through the files that would send him undercover to infiltrate Seoul’s most notorious mob empire.

The special agent knew the day was going to be terrible as soon as he received a phone call from his superior at 5am, ordering him to report to the station immediately. Upon learning of his newly given mission, Taehyung just wanted to burrow under his covers and sleep for another five years. Unfortunately, he needed his job, and he had a reputation to maintain.

Heaving a weary sigh, he reached across the table to pick up the dreaded envelope, heavy with all the information he was required to memorize by the end of the month. It was ridiculous on how short of a notice he was called to do this particular mission, yet the lead the police just received couldn't wait. They had to send their best, and quickly, before Boreumdal Pa had time to figure out they knew.

If only his station could settle for second best, especially given the history Taehyung had with Full Moon Mob.

Steeling his nerves, Taehyung carefully slid the thick packet of paper out, studying the first page with guarded interest. Amidst the formalities and big words, the gist of his mission was clear: to infiltrate the mob, arrest their current leader by finding solid evidence, and hoping the empire will collapse. According to their tip, Boreumdal Pa had just gone through a leader change, which meant affairs would be unstable for the next few months as responsibilities were handed over. It also meant prime time for infiltration, for the mob would no doubt be searching for fresh blood on the streets to ensure loyalty to the current head. Piece of cake. Right.

Already weary of the task before him, Taehyung sighed and turned the page, finding a fake profile he would have to become for this mission. Kim Taehyung. Age 19. Dropped out of high school at age 17, and remained homeless until present. Family members: none.

Taehyung smiled dryly at the information. It was curious that he wasn’t given a fake name to go along with his false identity, even more shockingly so that there was not much to be memorized. The only thing that was different was his age, presumably scaled down because it’s less likely for a nineteen-year-old to be suspected, and the bit about family members was true. His parents had died in an accident when he was young, and his uncle had disowned him after learning of his dream to become a police officer and not a doctor, as most of his precedent family members had been.

He turned the page. Following his profile were several others, prominent individuals within the gang he had to recognize on sight. Taehyung committed them to memory as his eyes skimmed the sheets. Nam Gyeongsik, 34, Boreumdal’s main drug supplier, one eye replaced by glass from a gunfight; Han Joochan, 33, the mob’s weapons supplier and right hand man of their leader, a big burly man with many scars but no tattoos in sight; and Song Jaewoo, 40, the drunk owner of the opium den in Gaepo-dong. He was the one Suseo was planning to use to get Taehyung into the gang.

The last three profiles were surprisingly bare. None of them had a picture or name, merely a alias and a brief description underneath. Hunter, the personal bodyguard of Boreumdal’s leader. Iri, a highly valued assassin whose identity is unknown to all but the highest officials of the mob. And King, the leader of Full Moon himself, whose name had been underlined several times with a black pen and the words capture alive at all cost written next to it.

Yes, that was the reason his unit couldn't settle for second best - there was no second best. Matthew had been sent on a similar mission a few years back when Taehyung was chasing down a Mafia boss in Russia, prompted by the exact same phrase that stared back at him, and was never heard from again. The mission had been declared a failure, his supposed death mourned, the files burned and never to be spoken of once more.

Although most people at the station moved on from the incident, acting as if it had never happened, Taehyung remembered and seethed. If only the police hadn't been hasty in sending his unprepared boyfriend to the wolves, Matthew would still be with him and not… not in the hands of Boreumdal Pa. He refused to entertain the idea that the boy might be dead.

The familiar ringing of his phone broke him out of his memories, which were slowly wandering towards the dark place Taehyung thought he buried. The caller ID read Chief, meaning he couldn't simply ignore it and go back to musing about his grudge against the world.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ace, I trust you have looked through the mission file?” his unit’s chief said by way of greeting, going straight to the point as usual.

“I have.” Taehyung’s reply was just as curt.

“Good. Report to the office in five minutes sharp. A team has been assembled to prepare you for the task. Train well, you have a week.”

“A week,” he repeated, taken aback. When Taehyung received his order that morning, he expected to get at least a month though it was already shorter than usual preparation periods, and he told the chief as much.

“There's been a change of plans. Boreumdal is recruiting quicker than we expected, so if you don't get in soon there's chance you won't get in at all.”

Taehyung pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting away annoyance and an oncoming headache as he attempted to reply as calmly as possible. “The last time such a mission took place, I would like to remind you that it failed because of haste. With all due respect, of course, sir.”

Silence. Taehyung suspected that Ahn didn't expect him to bring up such a forbidden subject. But no, as long as he was alive, he would make sure nobody forgot about the failed mission.

“You need no preparation, Ace,” Ahn finally responded. “You are the best agent of this police station, and perhaps all of Korea. You don't need the training, it's for precautions only.”

“Is that what you told Matthew, too?” he asked bitterly.

The chief ignored him, as expected. “Report to the office in five minutes. I expect to see you there, Ace.”

☆★☆

“Hey, you! What’re ya lookin’ at? Why, I ought to teach ya a lesson, huh!” A loud smack echoed in the small, cramped room reeking of smoke and sweat and alcohol. The owner of the opium den glared at the teenager with bloodshot eyes as the latter whimpered and clutched his reddening cheek.

Taehyung mentally went over the facts. The man’s name was Song Jaewoo, whose family was killed due to an insolent brother, and was only kept alive for his impressive show of loyalty. If he remembered correctly, the den owner had to shoot his own brother in the head, and he did so with no hesitation.

The trauma of losing family in such a way, however, had clearly traumatized him, resulting in alcoholism and a constant loss in presence of mind. He still ran his business well enough that the mob kept him, yet Song’s drunken reputation drove away many potential customers which might just result in a bullet to his head as well.

It was no matter. The den was only useful to Taehyung as long as he could get into the mob. What happened to it afterwards was not of his concern.

He diverted his attention back to the situation at hand, which involved Song inspecting the next boy in line. Taehyung was three people away, allowing him more time to study his surroundings before being called on.

The opium den was situated in Gaepo-dong with a cheery hair salon as its front. To get to the den itself, he had to go to the back room ‘for assistance’, where there was a set of stairs leading to the basement. At the base of the staircase was a reception table, and upon being asked for clearance, he was to say the pass phrase ‘the wolf howls at the moon’ to be let into opium den proper.

Taehyung simply had to ask for the owner and tell him he was looking for a job before ending up in this current room, where him and about twenty other young men were being sized up like horses at an auction. Given the amount that had already been thrown out, he had a very good chance of getting in, indeed.

“Young man, what's your name?” Song barked, his beer-tinged breath even more rancid up close. Taehyung forced himself to breath through his mouth before replying.

“Kim Taehyung, sir.” He made sure to keep his shoulders hunched, eyes downcast, to avoid making any movements that might be interpreted as offensive to a drunk man and thus ruining any chance of winning his way into Boreumdal Pa.

“How old’re ya? Why’re ya here?” Song stumbled a bit on his feet, frowned, and let out a loud belch.

“Nineteen, sir. I've been homeless since I dropped out of highschool and was hoping for a job, sir.” The lies rolled effortlessly off his tongue, as naturally as he had been trained to tell, and his shabby clothes (ripped and dirtied courtesy of his mission team) no doubt reinforced the authenticity of his story.

“And what's makes ya think a lil runt like yerself is useful ‘round here? I don't need a deadweight lyin’ in the way and trippin’ business up.”

Taehyung swallowed any retort about how the man’s business was failing without any help. “I know the streets well, sir. I know people. I can run any drug you need, and I'm fast, sir,” he said instead in a confident voice, adding a slight tremble to his tone to showcase nervousness.

The answer evidently pleased him, and it appeared that Song enjoyed him calling him ‘sir’. “A’ight boy, yer in. Ya can live in the empty apartment above here, and start running ‘em drugs tomorrow, ya hear me? Crack o’ dawn, I expect ya down here bright ‘n’ early.”

Taehyung allowed a small smile to come to his lips when the man had moved on. It was almost too easy, but he wouldn't dare say it aloud to tempt fate. Of course, anyone who showed submission was accepted as help, for the man desperately needed it after a huge cut in profit and a heavy warning from higher ups. Now if Taehyung could prove himself worthy, some superior might just take notice and promote him through the ranks. His mission was all about sending a pawn to capture the king, after all, but a pawn can easily turn into a queen if it reaches the other end of the board alive.

☆★☆

His new living area was small and run-down, but besides a few broken appliances, it was no different from other quarters of his previous missions. The first thing Taehyung did when he was assigned a room was to check for surveillance equipment, but given the insignificance of the building to Boreumdal Pa, there was none to be found. Good. That meant his activities would not be watched by anyone that mattered, and gave him a lot more freedom in the first stage of his mission.

Taehyung quickly made a game plan regarding the following day. At 6am, he had to show up at the reception desk, where he would be given the drugs and list of clients for the day. If he was fast enough, he could make a quick call back to the police station using a payphone to report to his team. All he had to do was to not mess up on the delivery job or slip up on his identity, and he was good to go.

Taking advantage of the remaining daylight filtering through the ripped curtains, Taehyung quickly took inventory of his possessions. Playing up his homelessness, he only had a few sets of clothes in his backpack, along with a small switchblade knife and a handful of coins in the inside pocket. He could easily put the drugs in there, and use his skateboard to get around, which meant no money wasted on transportation. Busses might make him late to appointments anyway, and the idea of getting busted because of a traffic jam made him snort to himself.

As he took off his shoes, a small bump at the tip of one of them reminded him to also plan ahead for his mission. His job might take months to accomplish, but it would no doubt end in a police raid to arrest King if he was successful, so Taehyung had been given a tiny, removable tracker to attach to the sole of his shoe. Although it was made with as little metal as possible to avoid detection, crushing the device in the event that he is caught will send a warning signal to the police, who will then come to his aid. He will hopefully not be needing that feature.

After putting away his meager belongings, Taehyung walked into the bathroom to wash up. From his earlier exploring, he found that the faucet only spewed forth rust-smelling water and the shower was perpetually cold. The bathroom was a small square cell that consisted of a leaking toilet, a yellowed porcelain sink that might have once been white, and a shower cubicle. Its tiles were cracked with pieces missing, and the wall mirror looked no better. There might have even been mold in the corners of the ceiling but this place was still in better shape than some he had to stay in during past missions. No, in comparison to those places, this apartment was a five-star hotel.

Quickly moving to the sink, Taehyung fiddled with the creaking knobs for a good minute to produce a steady stream of water. He splashed the metallic liquid onto his face, ridding it of the dirt and grime that had been professionally applied by makeup artists. The cool water, despite questionable origins, was oddly refreshing and sharpened his mind, preparing him for what was to come. Infiltration missions could take months and even years to complete, and he could only hope his luck would hold out.

Taehyung braced his hands on either side of the porcelain dish and stared at his fragmented reflection. As he shook water droplets free from his hair, a long forgotten pendant swung free from his throat. Taehyung looked at it dumbly for a few moments, watching, enthralled by the dull glint of the metal as the single flickering light bulb glanced off the coin’s edge.

It was nothing fancy - just a simple sun design with an M in the middle - but the sight of it made his heart clench in his throat. He blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes roughly with the heels of his hands as he tucked the necklace back under the collar of his shirt. Taehyung couldn't afford to think about _him_ right now though, for one distraction could cost him the mission. Until the ordeal was over, his only thought had to be his goal: capture King alive and bring down Boreumdal Pa once and for all.

He threw himself down onto the old bed, throwing up a cloud of dust and mothballs as it did. Taehyung’s eyes followed the spidery cracks in the ceiling until they converged and blended together. He told himself to sleep, knowing he needed the rest, yet it was a long time before his eyelids grew heavy enough to close, the image of a tall, smiling boy in a red basketball jersey imprinted in his mind.

☆★☆

Taehyung woke up before dawn, startled awake by the sounds of an argument breaking out downstairs. As a secret agent, he was trained to be a light sleeper, and the poor soundproofing of the building meant that he heard the yelling loud and clear. Shifting into a sitting position, Taehyung glanced at the alarm clock he found and fixed up last night, left behind by a previous occupant. The bent minute hand ticked towards the large five, where the hour hand was currently resting. 5:24am, which gave him just over half an hour to get ready.

After splashing water on his face to wake himself up completely, Taehyung proceeded to change into a more comfortable outfit for the day, slipping on a pair of tattered jeans and a dark green hoodie. He hoisted his backpack onto a shoulder, making sure that his knife was securely tucked out of sight, and grabbed his skateboard before heading downstairs. Out of habit, he twisted the doorknob after it closed, only to remember that the lock, like many other objects in the apartment, was busted.

The argument sounded to rise in tension as he descended, disregarding the false front as he made his way to the den. Given no clear instructions as to where he was supposed to wait, Taehyung took the liberties of following the sound of angry voices until he reached the room where he was accepted yesterday. The door was opened a crack, allowing the agent to see the dispute as well as eavesdrop.

“- can’t have my pushers out in broad daylight tryin’ to sell an inflated half-key of cocaine,” Song was saying, gesturing wildly with bloodshot eyes.

“Well, do something about it. Nam himself made it clear that any insubordination will not be tolerated, and we have to make up for lost profit, fast,” the other man replied curtly, looking bored out of his mind and wishing he was elsewhere.

“Give me two days,” Song pleaded. “My pushers can get the goods circulating nightclubs and casinos.”

The other man shook his head and shrugged. “By tonight. Boss’ orders. After Choi withheld it for personal use, we’re already making up for lost time. If it doesn't happen…” he let the sentence trail off, feeling no need to continue the thought.

Taehyung ducked out of the way nimbly as the Boreumdal Pa man exited the room, sparing him no glance. Song followed his steps, protesting loudly, but unfortunately, he did not overlook him. Turning his bloodshot eyes on the agent instead, he fixed him with a maniacal stare.

“You, boy,” he said, seemingly more sober than he was the previous day. “You said you know people.”

Taehyung made a show of swallowing nervously before he answered. “Yes, sir.”

The man gestured at a briefcase lying by his feet. “Then I expect you can sell this fast enough. 74 000 won a gram, boy, nothing less.”

He couldn't help but let his jaw drop in genuine surprise. “That’s 14 000 won over the usual price. There is no way anyone will buy that if there’s a far cheaper alternative on the market. And what about the orders, sir?”

Song scowled in his direction, bloodshot eyes shooting him laser gazes. “If you are as good as you claim to be, both can be done by tonight. You just have to find people...desperate enough. The orders are by the counter, so pick ‘em up when you leave. Am I clear?”

Taehyung bit back a retort, for surely the man did not actually expect him to complete the tasks. Selling inflated drugs was difficult on its own, yet paired with the punctuality of drops given the time limit was almost impossible. Still, there was no use in arguing, for he certainly did not want to get on the man’s bad side so soon. Instead, Taehyung gave the den owner a deferent bow. “Yes, sir.”

Song huffed in annoyance and left, allowing him to kneel and examine the contents of the briefcase. There was indeed a half-key of cocaine present, already conveniently packaged into individual baggies ready to be sold. Taehyung began the process of transferring the drugs into his backpack, for it would surely be easier to carry around and attract less attention than a briefcase.

As the man said, Taehyung found an assortment of envelopes right beneath the front desk’s counter, each labelled with a name. On top of the bundle was a list, likely of the drop time as well the cost. There was only eleven clients in total, all of whom are expecting marijuana rather than anything harder. He suspected it was due to him being new, though the lack of challenge in delivering said drug gave him time to complete the last minute task he'd been given. Putting the packages into his backpack carefully alongside the baggies of coke and tucking the folded list into his hoodie’s pocket, Taehyung picked up his skateboard and headed up the stairs.

The salon front was empty as expected, the streets outside just starting to fill up with morning traffic. He pulled his hood up to fight against the December chill, threadbare clothes no match for the cold, and hurried down the sidewalk. Rather than checking his list for the first location of the drop, Taehyung took a few turns to distance himself from the salon, before settling on a payphone situated on a street further down. Running the drugs can wait; contacting his superiors, on the other hand, cannot.

Ahn picked up on the third ring. Instead of calling the chief’s usual number, he had opted for the non-traceable phone he used on missions, so it no doubt took the other man some time to locate said phone. “What’s the situation, Ace? Be concise, this is recorded.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. The conversations made on this phone was always recorded, it was nothing new to him and Ahn could very well rely on him for short reports. “Got accepted no problem, running my first job today but Song’s got trouble. Some selfish asshole down in Yeoksam-dong got busted withholding a half-key of cocaine for personal use, so now I gotta make up for lost profit by pushing it, inflated, on the market, by tonight.”

Ahn made a noise of understanding in the back of his throat, but otherwise gave no advice or encouragement regarding his current predicament. “You’ll manage, Ace. Don't fuck it up, and you might just catch the attention of a few superiors. Report back whenever you can, but don't call if it might jeopardize the mission. I'll hear from you soon.”

After the chief's comments, the line went dead. Taehyung had to suppress yet another eye roll, because everything he’d just been told he knew already. However, though unspoken, the _good luck_ and _be careful_ were evident in Ahn’s tone for although he was a member of the police force undercover, he could still technically be charged if caught with drugs in his possession. Corrupt police officers, after all, weren't a rare occurrence when the capital of South Korea was more or less run by a mob empire.

The phone call made, Taehyung grabbed the leftover change and began down the street again. Checking the clock in one of the clothing stores, he found that he had nearly half an hour until his first drop, in a small cafe not far from his current position. Time to catch up with some old acquaintances first, then.

When Taehyung had said he knew people, he hadn’t been lying. Being a secret agent specializing in undercover missions meant he had many connections around the neighbourhood, including some very rich, very bored potential clients whom he knew had just the desperation and money he was looking for.

Skating around until he reached the residential high rise apartments, he slowed in front of one that, though looking like no others, housed the mistress of a rather prominent CEO in Seoul. Taehyung approached the front door, only to be denied access by the buff security guards standing firm in his way.

“You can't go in, kid. What, you think this is a hotel? Get your filthy ass somewhere else,” one of them growled menacingly. Ah, that's right. He was still playing the homeless role, and that won't do at all.

He put on his most charming smile instead, looking for all the world unconcerned at the situation. “A shame, really. I'm an old friend of Miss Sharon’s, and I happened to be in town for a visit.”

The guards exchanged uneasy looks. Nobody was supposed to know the mistress’ English name, but he had learned it during his mission as a chaebol’s son infiltrating the high class to arrest a corrupt chairman. Bless rich women these days with their attempt to sound posh by using English names and speaking the language.

“Keep dreamin’ kid, she ain't got no business with someone like you,” the second security guard replied, albeit a lot less confidently than the first.

“Don't believe me? Call her down and say J.seph’s come say hi.” When he was on this mission, he had been posing as a rich business man’s son from an oversea private school with ‘Joseph’ as his baptismal name. In an effort to rebel against his father like the headstrong but charming teen he was supposed to be back then, he managed to twist the English name to show a bit of character. Matthew was the one who had come up with J.seph, and though he had joked it sounded like a rapper’s name before, now he used it with fond memories.

Grumbling and reluctant, the first guard did as he said, only to raise his eyebrows in surprise at the crackling on the other end of his walkie-talkie.

“Are you sure, ma’am? Yes. Yes, I understand.”

The guard put away his radio and turned to Taehyung begrudgingly, stepping aside. “Top floor, last unit on the left.”

He nodded his thanks, unable to resist to urge to throw a smug grin at the speechless security guards. The agent took the pristine elevator all the way to the top, as per the instructions. He’d barely raised his hand to knock when the door was flung open, startling him into taking a step back.

“ _Oh sweetie~_ ” she cooed in accented English, throwing her arms around him. “ _I've missed you_!”

“As have I, Miss Sharon,” he responded, returning the hug. Although he tried to keep work separate from his personal life, Taehyung had been rather fond of the woman, even though he was here to take advantage of her.

“You should visit more often! Ah, what's with the hideous clothing? Your father will surely be angry again, saying it’s just a phase. Come in, come in! What brings you back to this dreadful country?”

Taehyung followed her into the extravagant penthouse, noting that little had changed since his last visit. Arriving at the living room, he declined sitting for fear of soiling the sofa, only to be pushed down insistently, setting down both the backpack and his skateboard by his feet. Miss Sharon looked at him with eager eyes, pupils dilated. That, at least, confirmed his guess that she was still using. He relaxed slightly, settling into the couch as he came up with a plausible story.

“Well, my father recently had to return to oversee a business transaction in person, and as I am his heir, he thought it would be apt for me to join him,” Taehyung began, the pieces falling in place already. “You know well, though, that I don’t enjoy the trade very much, so I’ve taken to hanging around some old acquaintances instead.”

Her lips curled up in an amused smile, nodding at his clothes. “I can only guess these are people your father would not approve of.”

“He does not approve of many things I do. However, there’s a reason I’m here today, Miss Sharon, and I’m afraid I do not have much time.” Sneaking a glance at the antique grandfather clock sitting so out of place in the modern household, he concluded that, indeed, time was running out for him. Taehyung leaned closer to her with a conspiring grin. “If I recall correctly, the last time I visited, you mentioned one of your vices.”

Her eyes darted around nervously, tongue wetting her lips as she too leaned in. “Yes,” she whispered, a strained tone colouring her voice. “Though I haven’t been getting the quality I used to. It’s taking a toll on me. Do you know anyone who sells the pure, unlaced stuff?”

“Better yet,” Taehyung responded, knowing his fish was hooked. He patted the backpack by his feet. “I have the goods right here with me.”

Her eyes lit up hungrily, demeanor changing from the easygoing woman a moment ago. “How much? Can I try?” she demanded.

“Quite a lot,” he said, already taking out a baggie, concealing the rest. Taehyung took the liberties of pouring a thin line onto Miss Sharon’s coffee table, enough to give her a taste of the substance she craved.

Wasting no time, the mistress took a crumpled bill and rolled it up, snorting the white powder in front her her. Tilting her head back, she gave a loud groan of satisfaction. “This is amazing,” she exclaimed, shifting in her seat. “I must tell all my friends about it. How much are you selling it for?”

“74 000 won a gram. Quality costs,” Taehyung answered quickly, before she could protest. However, he knew that she was unable to refuse the offer, not when she already had a taste. Though Boreumdal Pa, just like any type of gang, laced their drugs, this mob in particular was quite skilled at making their product appear as pure as possible.

“Alright,” she said after a pause, though he had no doubt she made her mind up some time ago. “How long can you stay? I want to call some of my friends and tell them.”

He checked the grandfather clock again. “Ten minutes,” he decided, concluding that if he went fast enough, he could make it to the drop in five.

Nodding resolutely, Miss Sharon took out her cell phone and dialed. A moment later, a click could be heard as the recipient picked up. “ _Hello? Oh Sarah~ Yes darling_ … you remember the boy I told you about last time? Yes, he’s here with me now… he has quality goods… yes, yes, bring the girls too. How fast can you come? He’s leaving soon… okay, I see. _See you later~_ ” With a flourish, she hung up the call.

“They’ll be here soon. I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit. Tea?”

☆★☆

By the time Taehyung was outside the cafe where the drop was happening, the weight of cocaine in his bag was replaced by the weight of cash. He shifted the strap and entered, ducking low to avoid any curious eyes. The cafe was just beginning to meet with its influx of morning customers, so Taehyung made his way to a table just out of the way, close enough to the window and in plain view of his client. Idly glancing at the clock to make sure he was indeed a few minutes early, he took out the folded list to revise it.

_7:30 - Cupcake Café - Moon Miyeon_  
_8:10 - Gaechi-dong gas station - Baek Seongha_  
_8:40 - Hansung Science High School - Im Wonyoung_

The list went on, detailing eleven different places he had to deliver to. He wondered if the list could be enough to arrest some of these people, once he finished the mission and went back to the police station. If he got out alive.

The tinkling of bells startled him out of his thoughts, showing a young woman in her 20s entering the coffee shop. She was wearing a pastel pink outfit, completed with a cashmere sweater with a cat on it and cotton skirts. Quickly locating him in the corner of the cafe, she flitted over with rapid steps, taking a seat opposite him and smoothing down her skirt.

“You’re new. I’ve never seen you before,” she commented, before he had the chance to speak. Leaning forward as if to examine him, she gave a nod of approval before settling back. “You’re cute. Will I see you around?”

“Depends,” Taehyung replied. “Are you Miss Moon Miyeon?”

“That’s me. I have the money, so give me the goods.” She giggled, taking out an envelope from her equally pink purse. “I’ve always enjoyed saying that. Makes the deals seem sketchy and illegal.”

Taehyung bit back the retort that what they were doing was sketchy and illegal, at least, in South Korea, and instead produced the package labelled with her name in exchange for the cash. She snatched it from his possession as soon as he put it on the table, peering in to check her order as he did the same with the money.

“Thanks,” she grinned at him, tilting her head. “You really are cute, hope I get to see you around.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned with a twirl and exited the cafe, having no qualms about attracting attention. Taehyung shook his head at the strange girl, stashing the envelope in a pocket within his backpack separate from the rest of the drugs.

After a few more minutes, Taehyung left the whimsical coffee shop, kicking up his skateboard to continue down the streets. Five more deals went by in similar fashion, though some were notably less pleasant than others. He was able to sell the rest of the drugs to a politician’s wife and her friends in between his sixth and seventh drop, caring little for the consequences that may arise should a scandal break out. His role at the police station was that of a special agent anyway, not of a law enforcer.

By the time he skated back to the den, the winter sun had already set despite the early hour, street lights casting shadows around him as he walked to the salon front nearing closing. Breezing past the bored-looking lady at the counter, he took the stairs to the den proper, before halting in his steps unexpectedly.

Song hung between two thugs, bloodied and beaten with ropes tying his wrists together. His head whipped from side to side wildly as he struggled, spittle flying from his mouth with each desperate yell.

“He’ll be back any minute! I promise! I've been loyal to the mob for two decades, I’ve done everything I’ve been told. You can't take me away! My man is - there he is!” The den owner gestured frantically with bound hands when his sight landed on Taehyung, who had frozen by the base of the staircase.

A third, better dressed man - one Taehyung had failed to notice initially - stepped forward and examine him with a sharp, calculating eye, the false glass one glinting in the dim light. _Nam, the head drug supplier_ , he realized with a jolt, finally catching up to the fact that the impossible task was possibly accorded to Song to watch him fail, which would serve as a perfect excuse to put down the man.

“Is that so,” Nam drawled in a vaguely amused tone, clear enunciation of each word a contrast to Song’s drunken slurs. “Do you have something for me, boy?”

Hands slightly shaking from fatigue and hunger, having run drugs the entire day subsiding on little more than convenient store food, Taehyung reached into his backpack and walked over to the counter. There, he produced the envelopes fat with cash that had been separated from the money from weed, laying them flat on the smooth wooden surface for the supplier to see.

“37 million won,” Taehyung declared, having painstakingly counted the 50 000 won bills himself earlier. “You can count for yourself, sir, but that is how much I was expected to earn from half a key of cocaine, at 74 000 won a gram.”

Various noises of surprise sounded from the two men, Song out of relief and Nam from impression. The drug supplier slowly clapped his gloved hands together, moving forward to examine the envelopes before turning towards Taehyung with newfound interest.

“You're new, kid? What is your name, again?”

“Kim Taehyung, sir,” he replied, head held low respectfully.

“Taehyung,” Nam repeated. “A kid as talented as you are, and you're only a runner? I’ll contact you in a few days, but I may have a better job offer that's much better than the one you have here.”

“Thank you, sir.” He bowed, the full ninety degrees.

Nam waved a hand at his goons, demanding them to release Song, before collecting the fallen briefcase by the counter that contained half a key of cocaine just that morning. It was now being filled by stacks of notes, bundled together with elastic bands the drug supplier produced from an unknown source as he counted.

The three men left soon after, leaving only Taehyung and the opium den owner, who was looking at him as if a speck of dirt just became human.

“Good job, kid. Guess ya ain't useless after all,” he begrudgingly grunted in recognition, rubbing his wrists. Taehyung thought he deserved better than a ‘good job’ for saving the man from certain death, but he kept his mouth shut just in case. Not that the other man could do much to him, when he had been noticed by a high ranking person in the mob.

“Thank you, sir. Is there anything else you need me for…?”

Song waved his hand dismissively. “Leave the payments on the counter and I'll sort them out. Same time tomorrow right here, don't think you can slack off just cuz Nam’s got his eyes on you.”

Taehyung did as he was told, bidding the other man goodnight before retreating to his apartment unit. Repeating his clearing routine from the previous night, he sent a prayer to whoever was listening that his current luck would hold. Although aware that he might be tempting fate, he silently allowed a moment to bask in his victory at how smoothly the plan was advancing. The wait for the next few days would be hell for sure, but very soon, he would be in the perfect position to bring down the empire that destroyed his world. The first move on the chessboard had been made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed for regular updates, but since I'm travelling right now, no promises guys :P Thank you all for reading, and have a fantastic day/night!! Love you guys♥♥
> 
> ~starjay


	2. II.

Despite Song’s nonchalant words, the man's attitude had taken a full hundred-and-eighty degree turn since Taehyung’s impossible success the first day. No longer arrogant and rude, the den owner had taken to addressing him by his name rather than ‘kid’ or nothing at all, treating him like a human instead of baggage.

Which included, Taehyung noted with amusement, going out of his way to get him a presentable suit for the evening.

“You’ll be representing this den, Taehyung,” the man had told him gruffly, not meeting his eye. “Can’t have ya lookin’ like a street kid raised in a barn.”

He changed into the suit now, the outfit bordering on casual and formal with the few top buttons of the dress shirt undone, black sneakers instead of proper shoes, and no tie. The special agent slipped his switchblade into the hidden pocket lining the inside of his suit jacket and transferred the tracker to his new shoes just to be safe. His hair had been comb back with water, wet locks still shaking free once in a while.

A glance at the dented alarm clock showed 6:22, eight minutes before a car was supposed to pick him up for his 7 o’clock dinner with Nam.

A knock soon sounded at his door, revealing one of the goons that had been with the head drug supplier. The man’s attire had also changed to a more formal suit, though curls of black ink could still be seen under the too short jacket sleeve. Taehyung followed the man to the all black Mercedes Benz C300 parked outside the salon, staying alert during the entire car ride to keep track of the route.

Once he had arrived, a waitress appeared at the entrance of the restaurant to guide him to a private dining area. As he went, Taehyung noticed that the atmosphere seemed oddly subdue for such a high class restaurant: most of the tables were empty, and what little patron there were sat eating or conversing with a tense mood. Even the servers seemed on edge as they rushed about, always trying to spend as little time outside the kitchen as possible.

“Hello, Kim Taehyung-ssi,” Nam greeted as he approached, gesturing for him to take a seat as his eyes - both real and glass - glittered coldly.

Taehyung bowed before sitting, returning the greeting in an equally formal tone. The table was clear save for two sets of cutlery and plates, as well as matching glasses of red wine with the bottle resting in a basket of ice.

“I ordered for the two of us already. I hope you don't mind,” Nam began, speaking in the same clear enunciation he had noticed during their first meeting.

“Of course not, sir,” he replied almost immediately, as if he was following a script.

The head supplier leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him, ivory gloves nearly blending into the white table cloth. “I suppose there is no wasting the time as we wait. I summoned you today to give you a better offer than the life you’ve been living at the drug den. The drunk fool doesn't recognize talent when it hits him in the head, but I do. You've got connections, a smart head, and an able body. That’s rare to find in a fresh blood, let alone a mere runner.

“So my offer is this: leave the den and become a pusher for me, or a dealer. There's plenty of positions you more than qualify for, but I know I don't want talent wasted on a drug den when he could easily become a business partner. What do you say?”

Taehyung had remained silent during Nam’s speech, and now he pretended to consider to deal even though his answer had already been determined. The appetizer arrived then, allowing him further time before responding.

At last, he said, “It would be my greatest honour to work under you, sir.”

Nam gave him a pleased smile, as a cat might smile when he got the mouse cornered. “I look forward to working with you.” He extended a hand over the table, giving Taehyung a firm handshake.

The conversation turned to lighter topics, and though the hard part was over, he didn't dare let his guard down. The restaurant occupants from earlier still made him uneasy, and he had to direct his full attention to the conversation at hand to prevent slipping up when the subject became personal.

Halfway through the main course, a waiter hurriedly ran up to their table and whispered anxiously into Nam’s ear. A moment later, a gunshot could be heard from the main dining hall, followed by shattering glass and terrified screams.

The drug supplier’s eye flickered between the source of the sound and his face, an attempt to show subtle fear that was far too scripted to be natural.

_He knew this would happen,_ Taehyung thought. _This is a test of some sort. But of what?_

“They're here to assassinate me,” Nam declared, setting down his cutlery and placing his napkin on the table. Again, he spoke as if from a script, reciting lines that were written beforehand. A single red dot suddenly appeared on the table, trailing until it reached the man’s forehead. Taehyung knew from experience that it was a sniper’s scope, and in a split second, he was out of his seat to push Nam down. A bullet lodged itself firmly in the back of the chair where Nam’s head was a moment ago.

“Pardon me if I'm acting out of line, sir, but we must get you out of here before the assassins reach this room. Is there a backdoor in the restaurant where you can ask your man to pick you up?” They had a little cover from their stance under the table, but he could already hear a pair of footsteps approaching.

“Yes, I know the way - ” A hand shot down to grab at him, but Taehyung was already moving, darting out from their cover to kick the assailant in the gut. The man toppled backwards, and the lost balance allowed the agent to grab his handgun and use the handle to hit the other hit man coming up behind him.

_Only two,_ he noticed. _Definitely a test, since shootouts usually have three to four attackers on site. This is a test of my loyalty and skill, to see if I can and will defend Nam._ He grappled with the two masked assassin, noting that their tactic seemed to be knocking him out through brute strength rather than kill with strategy. Too bad for them then, since he had no qualms against killing criminals.

Always staying half a second ahead of the two, Taehyung used his agility to disarm the second hitman, kicking the gun to Nam out of reach. At close range, he could only fire blindly as they fought, hearing two shots connect while the rest flew wild. He heard more than saw a knife being unsheathed, a long and wickedly curved blade that the first man produced when he thought Taehyung wasn't looking.

Instead of attacking the agent, however, he targeted the head supplier, who was still sitting on the floor where he watched with faint amusement as the scene unfolded like an action movie. Taehyung pushed the second assassin away quickly, putting himself between the first man and Nam. The knife flashed in the expensively lit lounge, catching the light off one of the crystals in the chandelier as it was held high above both of them.

He brought it down in one motion, and Taehyung fluidly grabbed the forgotten handgun to block the strike. A terrible screech could be heard as metal glanced off metal, both of them unrelenting in the struggle for the upper hand. With a determined shove, the special agent forced the hitman back and held the gun to his head, looking to Nam for further instructions.

“Kill him,” he ordered curtly, as if a man’s life was worth little more than a moment of thought.

A second blade slid across his throat; he had forgotten about the other assassin. “Let him go, or I'll kill you,” the man murmured in his ear.

Nam was still doing nothing to escape or better the situation, waiting to see how Taehyung would react. “Too bad for you then,” he murmured back in the same low tone. “Because I don't intend on dying tonight.”

He fired a shot quickly into the first hitman’s skull, twisting in the second man’s grasp to force his arm against him, violently shoving the blade into his neck. The man could only let out a startled gurgle, his warm blood gushing out from his arteries. Some landed on his jacket, and Taehyung mourned the loss of a perfectly good suit. After deeming the man dead, he allowed the body to slide to the ground.

“My, won't their client be upset,” Nam remarked in a dry tone.

“We should leave, sir,” Taehyung urged one again, letting the gun drop to the ground. If the entire ordeal was planned like he guessed, Nam would send people to clean up the mess and erase the evidence later.

The supplier looked at him properly, with just the tiniest bit of respect. “You knew this was planned, and yet you still obeyed me and killed them. You are certainly an interesting boy, Kim Taehyung.”

“It was meant to be taken as a sort of…drill, in the event that such a thing should happen in the future. I simply acted as I would in a real assassination event.”

“Indeed, you have proven my intuition correct. You will be more useful to me as a bodyguard and second-in-command than a simple dealer. I'll tell one of my men to take you back to the den to collect your belongings. You will move to my apartment building as personal security from tomorrow on,” Nam told him, leaving no room for argument.

“Yes sir, I would be honoured.”

He was dismissed shortly after, taken back to Gaepo-dong as promised. That night, put in a brand new apartment and staring out his bedroom window onto a brightly lit and busy street, he allowed his mind to wander. He was one step closer to his goal now, having seen Nam’s private quarters briefly for security reasons, and he knew just where to start if he wanted to get dirt on the drug supplier and possibly the weapons supplier.

Once the two most powerful men next to King are arrested, the empire would collapse on its own. Yes, his new position would bring him one step closer to completing his mission, and most importantly, one step closer to _him._

☆★☆

A perk of being the bodyguard of one of the highest ranking members of Boreumdal Pa was that he could meet other members of said gang without going out of his way, which made it much easier to gather information regarding the mob.

However, Taehyung didn't quite expect to meet a walking enigma that laughed too easily, knew all the gossip surrounding this recruit or that dealer, and came in the form of a petite, pink-haired girl called Jeon Jiwoo.

The casino was crowded with people, the flashing lights blinding him from every direction as he shoved forward, clearing a path for the drug supplier behind. There had been a case of delayed shipments from overseas in this particular district, through no fault of the dealer’s as it was simply the customs that was taking more time than usual. Nevertheless, the setback was causing problems that was serious enough to warrant Nam’s personal attention.

Taehyung had been to this particular casino many times in the past for similar business deals, for it seemed to be a favourite dwelling of Nam Gyeongsik’s, yet tonight’s dealer was an unfamiliar face. As they made their way to the second floor where couches were arranged to face each other, the special agent noted that the man they were about to meet was older than the average dealer in this area, looking like he was in his early forties.

There was a young girl sitting next to him as well, and though escorts aren’t uncommon among the men of Boreumdal Pa, her eyes studied their approach with exceptional focus. She wasn’t an escort then, but rather an assistant or business partner of sorts based on her posture and location. How interesting, considering the fact that women are rare in the ranks of a mob empire.

Nam took a seat while Taehyung took his place behind the black leather sofa. The two men shook hands, but the girl merely remained seated with her legs crossed. Another odd behaviour, since it implied she was a higher rank than Nam. It should have been impossible though, because he was the third most powerful man in the entire empire.

As the dealer and the supplier began discussing the details of the held-back goods, Taehyung took to studying the interesting girl. Like him, she was concentrated primarily on the conversation at hand, yet every now and then her eyes would dart upwards to look at his face. She was wearing a flowy, colourful summer dress of some expensive brand, her pale pink hair tied back to reveal large, dangling earrings.

Suddenly, she leaned forward to whisper something in the dealer’s ear, who in turn spoke a few words to Nam. Appearing startled, he looked between Taehyung and the girl a few times before nodding, and the girl sprung up from her seat to tug Taehyung away by his arm.

Once they were far enough from the two men, who returned to their discussion, she stopped and let go of him, having the decency to look embarrassed.

“Look… I'm sorry if that was rude, but businesses bore me and I haven't met anyone new or remotely young in a while,” she mumbled, staring at her sandalled feet.

“As long as I won't get in trouble,” Taehyung joked. He had his suspicions that this might be another test, that this girl would turn out to be a professional assassin and attack him once she gained his trust. But he was trained to tell when someone was lying, and so far, the girl was completely genuine. “Can I get your name, at least?”

“It's Jiwoo,” she told him. “Jeon Jiwoo. What about you?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

Jiwoo extended a hand towards him. “Well, Taehyung, nice to meet you. Let's talk outside, I don't really like crowded places.”

Without waiting for his response, she tugged him after her once again.

☆★☆

Jiwoo really was a walking mystery, Taehyung concludes as they talk by the near hedges behind the casino.

He learned that she was the daughter of an influential man within the gang, and that her family was originally entitled to the leadership position only to have it be stolen away by their previous leader. She was an assistant of the drug dealer - an old acquaintance of her father’s - now, for she vowed to make a name for herself within the gang as women were rarely respected in the mob at all, let alone as business partners. Others have told her to give up; Taehyung found her determination admirable.

“It doesn't matter much to me anymore, the old bastard’s dead, and King is a much better leader anyway,” she confided in a conspiratorial tone, leaning towards him seriously.

“Are you sure you don't like the new leader better just because he's cute?” Taehyung teased, for though he still haven't seen King’s yet, he knew the man was young, and charmed his way into his current position.

Jiwoo laughed and gave him a playful shove. “I've met him before, he really is nice but he treats me like his younger sister so, not really.”

“I'll bet you haven't been around enough guys to compare,” he joked. It was easy, to joke and tease her to watch her get riled up even though they just met.

“I've been around too many guys in my life to count, all of them over thirty and more interested in making money than serious relationships,” she retorted. “And anyway, I’d know a cute guy when I see one.” Taehyung waited for her to follow that up with a statement, but she simply tossed her head to act pretentious and looked away, only to dissolve into laughter a moment later.

“Hey, isn't this the time to say something about how I'm a cute guy?” Taehyung said in an offended voice. “Want me to convince you with some smooth pickup lines?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh once again and slap his shoulder lightly.

“Ew, no.” Jiwoo scrunched her face up in a disgusted expression once she managed to pull a straight face, but not for long.

It seemed as if his first impression of her was incorrect; he thought her smiles would be hard to come by, and yet she smiled all too easily. This was nice though, he hadn't had a friend like this since high school, someone who wasn't afraid to fire mock insults at him and whom he could crack stupid jokes with.

Of course, he still doubted her full genuineness, but she was friendly to him with just the bit of guarded care that suggested she too was deciding whether or not he was trustworthy. There was no malice or manipulation in her words, only the basic human desire for companionship during lonely times, and Taehyung wasn't going to pass up a connection made within the gang, for they were hard to come by and could be useful assets in the future.

His mob-issued phone buzzed in his pocket, showing a short message from Nam that summoned him back to the casino.

“I think their discussions have finished, I have to get back,” Taehyung told her, pocketing the phone and keeping the tiniest bit of regret out of his tone.

She checked her own phone. “Me too. I'll take you back in. It was nice talking to you though. Seriously… I didn't mean any of the rude things I said - well, maybe a couple of them - and I really like you as a friend. We should hang out again, sometime.” Jiwoo extended her hand for a shake, which he obliged.

“I haven't had a friend like you in a while too, I liked talking to you. It's a date!” he replied with an exaggerated wink, earning an exasperated shake of the head and a smack to his shoulder for his efforts.

☆★☆

“The order is final, Ace. Have I made myself clear?”

“Sir - ” The line went dead.

Taehyung leaned his head against the plastic walls of the phone booth, letting the phone dangle off the line. He knew better than to argue with his superiors, especially on missions for their time was limited, yet this order was pushing his luck too far for his liking. Having been in the gang only for a few months and nowhere near the top, getting caught would mean the end of the mission, and even his life.

Sighing, he exited the booth, already hatching a game plan to steal required files; he’d familiarized himself with their whereabouts when he first moved into Nam’s building for this very scenario, he just didn’t think it would happen this soon.

Taehyung returned to the apartment, mentally recreating the blueprint of the place by memory: the master control centre, disguised as a nondescript office on the third floor, various alarm systems and backup systems that he’d been briefed on his second day working, and the hard drives containing illegal transaction details in the double-locked safe in Nam’s study guarded by more traps. Thankfully, Taehyung wasn’t a squeamish person, or else he would have felt faint at the sheer thought of the obstacles that awaited him.

The opportunity presented itself a few days later. Granted, the plan wasn’t foolproof, but Taehyung was working on a time limit here.

It was a Friday night, and it was one of those rare days where Nam allowed himself reprieve from business, announcing that he would be visiting a club in Itaewon, and excusing his presence. Taehyung wasn’t sure if the man would even drink, for he seemed to uptight all the time that the image of a drunk Nam brought a smile to his lips. He had already familiarized himself with the building’s blueprint in the few months he’s been living there, so he put his plan into action as soon as the drug supplier’s limousine disappeared from view.

Taehyung was stopped at the command centre, which nearly jeopardized the entire plan before it could be properly put into motion. He had been hoping to convince the guard there to take a small break, his status as head bodyguard having earned him a ruthless reputation. However, the guard tonight had been working there for six years and counting, and therefore was much harder to convince.

Thankfully, his longevity meant that Taehyung had learned his profile from both police and Nam himself, and he knew the man used to work for several other gangs in the past, while Nam only knew Hwang Wonbae as an ex-soldier.

“Good evening, Hwang,” Taehyung started casually, letting his backpack drop from his hands as he held both up in surrender. “You can put that gun down, I’m not here to hurt anyone.” His smile turned threatening. “Well, I won’t be hurting anyone if you don’t tell.”

The guard narrowed his eyes in suspicion, glancing down to his backpack but never letting the gun waver in its position. “What’s in that bag, Kim? What’s your plan?” he demanded.

“Nothing that concerns you. And my plan is for you to go out on a little stroll for say, about an hour, and nothing bad will have happened by the time you come back. It will be just like the way you left it.” Sweet talk didn’t work with Hwang, Taehyung knew, as the man only respected strength and status. Easy enough on both aspects, though.

“I could report you.”

Taehyung laughed. “For nothing. You will have no proof, and I outrank you. And I’m sure that as someone who has worked for both the military and several gangs in the past, you know full well reporting to the authorities does nothing.”

Hwang’s face went pale. “You shouldn’t know that.”

Taehyung gestured towards the door. “How about that stroll?”

The guard glowered at him. “This better not get me in trouble, Kim, or I swear - ”

“You’ll kill me? Rather unimaginative, I must say,” Taehyung cut his spiel off with a wave. The man cast him one last look of distrust before he stormed out of the room.

Taehyung let out a strangled breath once the man was out of sight, before removing his laptop from his backpack and plugging it into the system’s main computer. As expected, his laptop was denied as foreign device, but he made short work of the initial firewall using a few learned hacks. From there, he was able to shut down the power from select floors, setting it to turn back on after an hour in a way that made it seem like a power outage, and left the room.

Mentally visualizing the building’s layout, Taehyung reached Nam’s floor safely, the door to his suite opening easily as the electric lock was disabled from the power outage. In the dark, his other senses became sharper, and the dead silence told him there were no other devices active that might give away his location.

Having been in Nam’s suite once before as a part of his security briefing, Taehyung was well familiar with the different sensors that would lead to an intruder’s certain death. Although he was under no illusion that there were other traps he was uninformed of - Nam was a paranoid soul by nature, after all - he was fairly confident he could steal the data he needed and get out alive.

Taehyung crept towards Nam’s office. Again, prior knowledge and Nam’s personality meant that he knew the drug supplier kept all his transactions on hard drives to prevent them from getting hacked. He pulled out a flashlight from his backpack and held it between his lips as he picked the lock to Nam’s office - of course the man would resort to an old fashioned security method in the very case that electronic locks malfunctioned.

The lock clicked open after some fiddling, and Taehyung slid into the office silently. He moved the flashlight in a wide sweep to examine the room before making his way to the desk. As he expected, the desk had four locked drawers down its side, once again devoid of any electronic locks. This puzzled Taehyung until he realized if authority ever came in here to search for evidence, they’d expect that information to be better hidden, and perhaps not even so close to where Nam worked. Bless his paranoid soul, which just made Taehyung’s job that much easier for him.

The top drawer was unlocked and opened already, thus ruling out the possibility of having hard drives in there. If he had to take a wild guess, Taehyung would say that they were kept in the bottom most drawer - it was the most discreet one, and the last one anyone would check if they searched methodically. But that would be too simple, so instead, Taehyung set to work picking the lock of the drawer above that one.

He unlocked the drawer with much difficulty, the lock having a more complicated mechanism than he’d anticipated, and he was losing valuable time. Taehyung’s internal clock told him he had around forty minutes left before the power came back on, which meant he had to get the information and be out of Nam’s apartment before then. To his dismay, the drawer held nothing but paper files, and unwilling to accept defeat, Taehyung began rooting through them for anything worth stealing.

By the time he reached the end of the drawer, having found little more than shopping receipts, Taehyung was about to close it when he accidentally pulled on one of the folders that seemed to be stuck to the bottom, which in turn revealed an entire hidden compartment underneath.

“Bingo,” he whispered under his breath, taking his laptop back out along with a USB. One by one, he took out the hard drives until all five were laid atop the desk. Taehyung picked one at random and put it in his laptop, loading up the files and then transferring them to the USB. He glanced at the menu bar as he worked, noting that he had just over twenty five minutes before the power was scheduled to come back on. The loading bar moved at a snail’s pace across his screen, taunting.

Taehyung was on the final hard drive when the lights came back on without warning.

“Shit,” he cursed quietly as he heard stumbling, muffled footsteps at the door of the apartment. He just had to hope that four hard drives’ worth of information would be enough to convict Nam, and perhaps the weapons’ dealer as well.

He had just managed to return everything to its rightful place when the door to the office swung open, revealing a very disheveled-looking Nam who was leaning against the door for support.

“Kim?” The man blinked at him a few times as if his vision was blurry, the contrast sharp between his glittering glass eye and his unfocused real one. “What are you doing here?” Even drunk, the drug supplier managed to retain his signature crisp enunciation.

Taehyung slid his laptop into his backpack as casually as possible and stood up, making a mental note to erase CCTV footage as soon as possible. “I detected a security breach during your absence, sir. Rest assured, it was dealt with quickly.”

Nam squints at him with his one eye. “Is that right? Well, good work, Kim. Go back to your suite now, I need to rest,” he waved him off as if dismissing a dog, and Taehyung was all too happy to obey.

As soon as Taehyung put away his supplies for the night, he slipped away to the command centre once more, wondering why the power returned sooner than expected.

He was met with Hwang’s smug face at the door.

“Bet you didn’t count on the backup system, huh kid?” he told Taehyung, grinning.

Taehyung cursed himself silently. He had, indeed, forgotten about the backup system, and such a slip had almost cost him his mission.

“I’ll bet you’re here to wipe evidence as well, but believe it or not, there is no footage of anything happening up until you returned to your room.” Hwang must have seen the skeptical look on his face, since he continued, lowering his voice. “I may be a traitor, but not a liar. Check for yourself.”

Taehyung decided not to question that logic as he followed the guard into the room. Sure enough, no matter how much he changed the camera or rewinded, exactly one hour of footage was missing from the computer.

“See. Got a friend helping you from the inside, or what?” Hwang asked him as they exited together.

Taehyung could only shrug in response. He had gone to the command centre to get an answer, but it appeared that he was given another question, instead.

☆★☆

“All the files that I was able to get are in there,” Taehyung told Ahn, who was looking at the device in his hand apprehensively. “There was one more hard drive, but Nam returned before I could download the data.”

“I see. Good work, Ace. This should be enough to convict the two of them, considering Nam’s paranoia, but report back after you meet him anyway.”

“Yes sir,” Taehyung replied, saluting his chief as the officer disappeared from the alleyway, leaving him alone.

The “him” in question was Han Joochan, the mob’s main weapons supplier whom he had met on multiple occasions in the past few months as Nam’s head bodyguard. He was the one who supplied Taehyung’s Beretta 87 Target and, upon learning of his competence, would occasionally borrow him from the drug supplier to oversee shipments of weapons arriving (though sometimes Han had to argue with Jiwoo if she happened to want to hang out; the fact that he yielded to her placed a continual question mark on just how high ranking she was).

Today was one such day, as a load of submachine guns were coming in from Russia at approximately 10am and he was summoned to examine the quality. He was expected to arrive at the warehouse in thirty minutes, so he quickly abandoned the phone booth to return to Nam’s apartment building, where he was granted access to one of the man’s car for the day.

Taehyung arrived at the warehouse just a little past ten, and he could see men moving crates of the machine guns into the tall building. He parked the car right in front, and was greeted by the large form of Han.

He was a big, lumbering man whose scars served to intimidate just as much as his enormous biceps and piercing gaze were. Despite being in a mob, however, his only tattoo was Boreumdal Pa’s insignia, with the silhouette of a wolf howling at a full moon. Taehyung had yet to get the tattoo himself, yet Nam would no doubt begin insisting it be done. 

Though Han looked for all the world like a terrifying beast, Taehyung had once witnessed the man take care of a stray dog that wandered too close to the warehouse, feeding it and cleaning it with impossible care before sending it off to an animal shelter. He had known better than to comment on it, however, for the man had caught him staring and shot him a gaze with enough threat to make twenty grown men piss themselves.

“Shipment’s inside, Ace,” Han told him as he clapped him on the back, walking both of them towards the entrance of the warehouse.

At first, he found it extremely alarming that Nam - and later Han - began calling him the exact same nickname as Ahn back at the police station, more so when he was introduced as so to the members of the mob he met later on. When Taehyung brought this up with his chief, though, Ahn merely dismissed his concern with the reasoning that it was common enough a nickname, and there was little chance of linking him back to the police.

“It's a new deal with a mob in Russia, they have good reputation but I don't trust anyone so I called you in,” Han told him as they entered, where the crates were already piling up into towers and mazes. “I’ll leave you to it now, be right outside.”

With the man gone, Taehyung wandered through the rows, eying up the boxes. A small animal was painted on the corner of each crate in black, likely the symbol of whatever Mafia it came from, though it looked far too familiar -

Taehyung doubled over as the air was sucked out of him, sinking to his knees on the earth that had begun to spin and sway. The symbol was a mosaic of a roaring Siberian tiger facing sideways, one that belonged to a gang affiliated with a government official he had been sent to infiltrate around the time Matthew was sent to Boreumdal Pa. His only failed mission ever.

The special agent got to his feet shakily as he tried to regulate his breathing, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He staggered away from the crate, but pieces from a memory he had long since suppressed began rising to the surface, suffocating his mind. Taehyung sank to the floor, drawing his knees up and cradling his head in his arms as the flashbacks returned mercilessly.

☆★☆

_The rain was beating down hard upon the flimsy jacket he was wearing, turning the streets slippery as he slipped between the winding alleys. Vladivoskov was a very beautiful city during daylight, but he couldn't stop to appreciate the view when it's nighttime and he was running for his life. The Russian port city was bustling about, yet the rain dulled some of its bright lights and it poured down in sheets._

_Taehyung had managed to last quite a while in the lower levels of the government, nearly completing his mission of retrieving the documents that would lead to the arrest of an official. For a foreigner like him, he had been forced through many tests to ensure his loyalty, and it worked to some extent. It should have worked to fool them completely, though he should’ve known better than to underestimate the amount of corruption and double-agents in the government._

_In the end, he had slipped up somehow, the official tipped off by an unknown source, and now they would destroy him for information if they caught him. Death would be a mercy, and the Russian mafia was not known for their mercy._

_Rapidly approaching footsteps could be heard splashing into puddle as he turned into yet another alleyway, losing sight of the Zolotoy Bridge that was lit up majestically at night. Nevertheless, his pursuers had the advantage of knowing the city, and he was cornered within minutes._

“Friend!” _he had called out desperately with his limited Russian, holding both hands up._ “Brother!”

_One of the goons shouted something he didn't understand, and a sharp pain suddenly flared at the back of his head, making him see stars before darkness overtook his vision._

_He woke up in a dark cell, no longer conscious of what time or day it was. Taehyung was still in his old clothing, now only slightly damp, and his mouth was dry as the desert sand. A guard came into the cell and splashed water on his face, and he gladly drank what he could._

_A mobster came in shortly after; behind him, a lower ranked brother followed with a chair and ropes. He was dragged up roughly and bound, as the man produced a hunting knife with a vicious edge and the mob’s symbol on its handle. Then the questioning began._

_The Russian was brutal in interrogating, and he was a master at his work. His blade carved cruel patterns in his skin, shallow enough to keep him alive but deep enough to hurt and meddle his mind through blood loss. He was starved for days and given minimal water, until he was dizzy with hallucinations and would beg for Matthew, for help, for death from this hell on earth._

_Taehyung gritted his teeth and endured the questions, only to be met with the shining metal stained with blood - his blood. The snarling tiger on its handle was always the first and last thing he saw before blissful nothingness consumed his senses._

_In the end, not a single word of his mission got past his lips, but the mafia broke him trying to get to it. A few Korean agents were sent to retrieve him two weeks later, he was told, but in his confinement it was years. They raided the abandoned building where his cell was located, freeing him and returning him to South Korea where he was hospitalized for a few weeks._

_During that time, he slowly collected his mind again, counting himself fortunate to not have been a victim of mental torture as well as the physical. The scars told another story though, no matter what he tried to convince himself, and the black mosaic of the snarling tiger was imprinted in the back of his mind forever._

There's at least Matthew, _he would whisper to himself on nights where dreams kept him awake, when it seemed like his life working for the police had taken all else away from him_. Just wait a little longer, then you can see him again.

_It was only after he left the hospital that he learned the police had taken the most important person away from him, as well._

☆★☆

Taehyung squeezed his eyes hard and chased the last of the visions away, forcing himself to open his eyes and examine the shipment of weapons like Han required him to. Russia was behind him now, and thinking about the failed mission would certainly not help his current one infiltrating another gang.

Han’s voice could be heard from outside the warehouse, a booming voice that was scaring off the birds in the area as he conversed with his men. Taehyung was still breathing too fast, but he ignored it in favour of lifting the top of crates to examine the weapons, even taking a few out here and there to disassemble them and see the make. He was almost done with the shipment when his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, so he slid it open without much thought, guessing it must be a message from Nam.

**jyuuu~:** u free soon?   
**jyuuu~:** let's go jogging together!!

Taehyung shook his head, chuckling a bit as his earlier anxiety faded away. He took a steady breath, typing out a reply with slightly shaky fingers.

**tae:** sure, hmu


	3. III.

“This beanie looks good on me, right?” Taehyung asked, fixing the beanie and tossing his head to the side to dislodge the price tag that had swung in front of his face. He turned from looking into the mirror to Jiwoo for her opinion.

“Sure, it looks good,” she began, leaving a meaningful pause, “just not on you.”

“Excuse you, I'm hurt,” Taehyung said, feigning pain as he put a hand over his heart. Even so, he returned the beanie to the rack and moved on.

After Jiwoo’s invite to go jogging, they had made plans to go down by the Han River for a nice run the following evening. Upon confirming with Nam that there had been no appointments planned in which Taehyung had to be present, he agreed to meet up with her in Gangnam-gu and travel together. However, all plans of jogging had been thrown out the window when they came across a department store, which resulted in their impromptu shopping trip instead.

The two of them moved to the women's section, where lighter dresses were beginning to show up amidst the heavy winter clothing, awaiting the arrival of spring.

“Here, do you think this looks good on me?” Jiwoo held up a yellow dress with flower patterns on it against her body, looking at Taehyung for answer.

“Sure,” he replied easily. “Just -”

“Don't you dare steal my insult, make your own,” she interrupted him, before he could continue and make the same remark she had about him earlier.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine, in all honesty it does suit you. The yellow goes well with your charming smile as you threaten to stab someone.” Taehyung had never seen her stab someone before, but he assumed that would be her thing. The cold, calculating look she held when they first met was testimony to the darker side of her she must show her enemies.

She rolled her eyes at his remark but held onto the dress anyway, draping it across her arm as she continued to navigate the endless mazes of clothing that confused Taehyung to no end. Give him the floorplan of a governmental building over the women’s section in the clothing store any day.

His reserves for department stores put aside, Taehyung followed her deeper into the store. Jiwoo chattered lively throughout, occasionally stopping to pick clothes off the racks to ask for his opinion, before realizing he gave no useful comments and simply deciding for herself.

At one point, Jiwoo stopped by the change rooms to try on her clothes, leaving Taehyung outside. His eyes wandered over the massive array of bright pastels assaulting his vision when his sight landed on a hat rack. There were many bonnets hooked near the top, with dyed straws and frilly ribbons and flowers decorating the brim.

On a whim, Taehyung got up and walked over to the colourful display, pick out some of the most obnoxious hats with a wide straw brim and stacking them to wear as one, fastening the ribbon from the bottom most bonnet - which happened to be bright pink silk - snugly under his chin. He returned to his seat after making sure their section was fairly empty so no one can see him make a fool of himself.

“Taehyung oppa, what do you think about - ” A click sounded as Jiwoo unlatched the door and stepped out, but he didn't dare look properly for fear of jostling the pile of bonnets he currently had on his head. He peered at her from under the low brim, grinning mischievously as he saw her laugh in disbelief. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“It's called fashion, but of course you wouldn't understand it,” he retorted, tossing his head to one side sassily, trying to contain his own laugh. “I'm trying to make a social statement.”

“Wearing women’s hats are great and all, but even us girls don't wear that many at once,” she told him. Jiwoo snatched the bonnet at the top of the pile and put it on, the dark brown clashing horrendously with the turquoise dress she was wearing.

Taehyung relented, putting back the rest of the bonnets but keeping the last one on. Jiwoo struck a silly pose when she realized he could see properly again, asking him once again what he thought.

“Great dress, not sure the hat goes with it though. But alas, not everyone can rock bonnets as well as me,” he said dramatically, taking the hat back to put it on his own head again.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jiwoo said as she hit his arm with a smile. “I'm going to try on the rest of these, try not to destroy the rest of this section ‘making a social statement’ while I'm gone.”

In the end, she settled on the turquoise dress with ripples of other greens and blues as well as two others, paying for them with a swipe of a card without so much as glancing at the price. As Taehyung was bullied into holding the bags for her, he wondered once again how far her status and wealth extended. Would she be willing to get ahold of King for him?

“Come on, let's go get something to eat,” she called from ahead of him, turning around.

“It's not good to eat outside every day,” he reprimanded in panting breaths as he caught up to her.

Jiwoo crossed her arms and looked at him. “Who said I ate outside every day?”

“You don't seem like the type to cook,” he replied without missing a beat, earning a hit in return.

“Who said I had to cook? Maybe I have a personal chef who does that for me. Anyway,” she suggested. “Are you saying we should cook for dinner? There's a grocery store like, right next door.”

Taehyung shrugged. “I'm down. Just a warning though, I'm not that great a cook.”

She laughed before resuming to walk. “You'll just have to be a fast learner, then. Like I said, personal chef,” Jiwoo explained, quickening her steps in preparation to run away at his incredulous expression.

☆★☆

As a trained special agent, Taehyung would have been able to stop the attack had he not been burdened by grocery bags, slowing down his reactions by a fraction. Thankfully, Jiwoo reacted faster.

Their assailant had manifested from thin air, wielding a knife that was barely visible in the street lamp’s light. The two of them had just exited the grocery shop near the department store into the night, having agreed to go to Taehyung’s apartment because it was closer.

They had barely taken two steps when the assassin appeared out of nowhere, a mere shadow emerging from the night. Taehyung had dropped the bags immediately to dodge the blow aimed for his head, but the clang of metal on metal rang sharp over the street, causing him to pause.

Jiwoo produced a blade of her own out of thin air in the split second he had been distracted with the bags. She now held a dagger in her hand, double edged and cold steel, with the wings of an angel spreading from the hilt embracing a red gemstone in the middle - ruby, perhaps? It appeared ancient yet well cared for, maybe a family heirloom.

Taehyung didn't have time to wonder past the weapon’s origins, however, because the assassin had twisted away from Jiwoo and adjusted his stance a few paces from the two of them. A small crowd of onlookers had gathered, no doubt drawn by the fight that was going on.

The unknown figure - Taehyung could only guess that he was a man due to his height a stature - was hesitating, for though his identity was still unknown thanks to the cover his clothes gave him, the special agent could now clearly see the imprint of a roaring tiger on his hood, drawn low over his face.

“I know who sent him,” Taehyung said to Jiwoo, keeping his eyes on their assailant.

“Yeah?” she replied, breathing heavily. “Maybe you can enlighten me after we get rid of him.”

The assassin, taking their speech as distraction, chose that moment to lunge forward, this time aiming at Taehyung's throat. The white tiger upon black was even more terrifying up close, and for one absurd moment, he wondered how inconvenient it would be if he had a panic attack right in the middle of a fight.

Thankfully, his instincts saved him at the last moment, allowing him to dodge the hit by millimetres and twist around the man to throw an arm around his neck. He grunted, trying to shake him off, but Jiwoo was there in a flash, knocking away his blade with her own and holding the point of the dagger to the attacker’s adam’s apple.

The assassin struggled fruitlessly between the man, but Taehyung had already turned his attention to the crowd instead.

“What do we do with him? And don't say kill him, that's not an option here.” He gestured to the people around then, some of whom had their phones out as they recorded the confrontation.

Jiwoo cursed under her breath as she surveyed the situation. “I'll keep it contained. Don't let him escape.” She let go of the man without warning, forcing Taehyung to adjust his hold by twisting both the man’s arms behind his back. She stepped away from him for a few moments, speaking lowly into her phone. Jiwoo then turned to address the crowd, but he wasn't really listening, too busy suppressing the memories that inevitably tried to rise with every time he saw the Siberian tiger.

The assassin kept still - too still, and Taehyung knew better than to let go. Within minutes, nondescript black cares had rolled up along the curb, rounding up the crowd and confiscating devices. Jiwoo walked over to him with two thugs, telling him her man will handle the assassin, before taking their attacker from his hands. The man had begun struggling again, but was quickly subdued when she pressed a pressure point at the back of his neck.

“Hey, you okay there? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Although her tone was teasing as always, there was an underlying sense of concern.

He blinked. “Yeah. Just some old memories. Maybe I'll tell you about them later.”

She crossed her arms, gesturing at the pile of grocery bags he had forgotten about. “Then you should go pick those up. Dinner at your place isn't cancelled just because some under-competent assassin tried to kill you.”

He laughed. “Never said it was.”

Taehyung led them to Nam’s apartment building where he lived, wondering all the while how Jiwoo could handle an attempted murder with such normalcy, almost as if the killer had been a minor inconvenience she dealt with on a regular basis; for all he knew, she did. It still bothered him how little he knew about her despite all that she's told him, and his special agent senses were sending little warning bells off in his head.

_Stop, you only think she's suspicious because you're trained to think all affiliations of the gang are suspicious,_ he told himself. _She just saved your life, stop over thinking for once._

“Hey, we're here,” he announced, nodding to the security guards up front who let him pass without a word. They reached the front desk together, where Taehyung removed his gun from his jacket and placed it on the metal plate the receptionist offered him.

“No weapons allowed in the complex,” he explained with a shrug. “Security reasons.”

She nodded her understanding. “Smart, Nam doesn't trust anyone, does he?” She, too, removed her dagger from her jacket, placing it next to Taehyung's Beretta.

He took her to the elevator, unlocking it with his fingerprint and pressing the 12.

“Nice place,” Jiwoo commented as they rode the elevator.

“Efficient,” Taehyung corrected her. “Nam doesn't care for pretty things unless they are useful, as well.”

“Like you?”

“Did you just call me a pretty thing?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I was referring to your usefulness.”

“Thanks,” he answered sarcastically as the elevator reached his floor with a pleasant _ding!_ “Always here to serve.”

He unlocked his door using a retina scan this time, and Jiwoo at least helped by holding the door open so he wouldn't have to struggle with the bags.

“Nice place,” she reiterated as they entered the apartment.

Taehyung went to the kitchen to put away the groceries, leaving Jiwoo with her new clothes. He’d hardly call his apartment nice, considering how he’d done little to personalize it since moving in four months ago. Better to be as unattached as possible, Ahn had advised, but Taehyung hadn’t planned on decorating anyway. The unit felt much too large to be comfortable alone, so he refrained from trying to make a home out of it. It wasn’t like he was there to stay.

“I guess. Like I said, Nam favours efficiency over beauty.”

Jiwoo made herself comfortable on the kitchen island as Taehyung began sorting the ingredients to make kimchi stew, since it was relatively easy and he wasn't feeling particularly like a chef.

“You really aren't going to help,” he stated with resignation when she didn't move from her perch even as he started seasoning the pork to marinate.

“Nope. I told you,” she replied with mock haughtiness, but moved a second later regardless. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

“Can you please cook the rice, if it's not too bothersome for you, Your Highness?” Taehyung instructed with exaggerated politeness, gesturing to the rice bin then the rice cooker.

She did as he told with a roll of her eyes, huffing a little laugh as she measured out the grains and washed them. Taehyung began preparing the rest of the ingredients, chopping up the kimchi and onions as Jiwoo hummed under her breath. They worked in relative silence, but when she was finished with her task, Jiwoo began bothering him again out of boredom, poking his shoulder playfully.

“Maybe you should sing for me, if you're so bored. Provide a little entertainment if you're not going to help,” Taehyung suggested as he tossed the kimchi into the pot.

“Excuse me? Did you just call me entertainment?” she demanded. Then, a little quieter, “I can't sing.”

“I just heard you humming, you literally can't be that bad. If it makes you feel better, I'll sing with you,” he brushed away her worries before bursting into song, singing one of the trendy idol tracks he heard on the radio incredibly off key.

Jiwoo doubled over in laughter, looking away as if embarrassed by him, before picking up the same song but with notably better singing. He grinned, pleased to have gotten a reaction from her, before going back to stir the simmering stew.

“I think it's done now,” Taehyung announced suddenly, cutting off her soulful rendition of ‘How Far I'll Go’ from the Moana soundtrack; she had replaced many English words with la’s, turning the whole song into incoherent lyrics.

She moved to help him set the table, laying out the various side dishes they’d picked up at the supermarket as he carefully moved the scalding pot to the centre. Taehyung ladled some soup out for her before nudging the bowl to Jiwoo. “Eat.”

Jiwoo looked at him suspiciously, as if she couldn’t believe his niceness, then did as she was told. A moment later, her eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, this is edible. I didn’t actually think you could cook.”

He mocked a glare at her over his own bowl, huffing. “Excuse you. I’ve lived on my own since being disowned by my family. Of course I need to know how to cook.”

She simply nodded, letting their conversation dull to silence as they both tried to change the subject. “About the assassin, earlier,” Jiwoo finally seemed to settle on saying. “You said you know who sent him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered, but hesitated before he said the next part. “I ran into them on the street a few years ago, got captured because I asked too many questions. The police broke into the place I was kept eventually, but not before, y’know…” It wasn’t technically a lie, not entirely, but besides keeping up his front as a homeless kid, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to face those memories again, especially after his breakdown at the warehouse.

“My men will make sure they don't bother you again,” she vowed after hearing his explanation.

Taehyung accepted the promise and didn't press it, though his burning curiosity once again wondered about her rank. Jiwoo's confidence in calling and ordering those men around alluded to an extremely high position, and he didn't want to find out the hard way how rats were treated in Boreumdal Pa.

They made light conversation for the rest of the night, Taehyung making Jiwoo help him with the dishes which inevitably led to a small water fight and even more cleaning up afterwards. It wasn’t until after they finished tidying up that he noticed the time displayed on the banged up alarm clock in his kitchen he’d kept from the drug den. Its cracked face showed ten to twelve, and he’d quickly brought it up.

“What, kicking me out already? The party just got started!” Jiwoo tried to joke, but he saw her yawn afterwards and knew how tired she must be.

“Let me be concerned about my friend’s well-being for once, thanks,” Taehyung retorted, guiding her to the door to escort her out.

She leaned against him sleepily as she got into her shoes, letting him half-nudge half-push her to the elevator. “Thanks for letting me come over tonight, it was fun. Thanks for trusting me enough to do so, _friend_.” Jiwoo grinned.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Could always use a little company now and then.”

He waited on the curb with her until her driver came to pick her up, watching as the car’s brake lights disappeared down the street. The illusion of normalcy shattered as he re-entered the cold, unyielding building, forcing him back into the mindset of a secret agent. Taehyung wasn’t sent here to make friends, but to capture the head of the gang.

That night, as he tried to sleep, his agent instinct began pinging out warning bells. A small detail kept playing over in his head, just a casual exchange of words when Jiwoo was trying out clothes.

_Taehyung oppa_ , she had called him, despite having never asked for his age. It would be easy to assume based on appearance, but most people would either ask to confirm or simply use a different honorific. In the gang, depending on her status, she could even talk down to him, yet she had called him big brother so naturally; a slip of the tongue, which never happened again yet was definitely not accidental.

So the question was, _how did she know?_

☆★☆

“When are you going to tell me your rank?” Taehyung laughed, sitting down on the couch next to Jiwoo. They were both out of breath, cheeks flushed from racing each other on the windy streets. The two of them had gone jogging again, but it somehow turned competitive near the end, and Taehyung learned his lesson to never mess with a competitive Jiwoo.

Her eyes widened for a split second, as if his question caught her off-guard, but quickly composed herself. Taehyung would have thought he imagined the hesitation had he not been trained to observe.

“You told me you outranked Nam, which is how we can keep hanging out without him getting mad,” he explained. “But there is no way you’re powerful enough to _actually_ convince him. He’s one of the most important people in Boreumdal Pa.”

Jiwoo laughed. “I have my ways,” she said vaguely, avoiding the question. Instantly, Taehyung knew she was trying to stop him from inquiring further by lightening the mood.

“I’m serious. Who are you?” he asked, sitting up to look at his friend properly.

The tension in the room thickened. Jiwoo also sat up, her face suddenly guarded in contrast to her carefree self a moment ago. She examined him for a beat, as if gauging how much to tell him - or if she should tell him anything at all - and the longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Taehyung got. Had he made a mistake in asking? What if she simply lied, or cut off all contact with him? What if she was actually a powerful member of the gang, and asking just drew a target on his face?

Finally, she sighed, dropping her gaze. “I guess I really owe this much to you, at least. I wasn’t lying about not having friends, you know. You’re the first real friend I have, besides…” Jiwoo trailed off.

“Besides?” he prompted.

“Nothing. I’ll get there in a second. But before I tell you anything else, please promise not to freak? Because I have the power to rat you out to King, or Nam, and I haven’t. It’s not blackmail, I just want to prove that I genuinely value you as a friend, alright?”

“Jyu?” Taehyung said. “You’re scaring me.”

She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them again, there was a fierce determination in her eyes. “How much do you know about Boreumdal Pa? Especially the higher ranks.”

Taehyung swallowed nervously, but decided to cautiously tell the truth for the time being. “Nam and Han are two of the most important people in the empire. But King is the leader, with Hunter as his personal bodyguard and Iri as his best hitman.”

“Hitwoman,” Jiwoo corrected, and before he could say anything, she rolled up her sleeve all the way, showing a tattoo of a wolf howling at the full moon on her arm. “I’m Iri.”

Taehyung felt suffocated, as if her words knocked all the air out of his lungs. A million realisations hit him at once, the puzzle pieces connecting themselves, and he knew with absolute certainty that his mission just got compromised.

“Calm down, I really meant it when I said don’t freak.” She held out both hands in a surrendering gesture. “I know who you are, sure, but if I really wanted you gone, you wouldn’t be breathing right now.” He understood the threat perfectly clear, but couldn’t help but laugh at how nonchalantly she said it.

Jiwoo frowned. “I’m being serious here, Kim Taehyung-ssi. Who do you think wiped the CCTV footages when you were on your little mission stealing information from Nam?”

Taehyung shook his head, still trying to process that the Jiwoo in front of him was the same person of the cold-blooded assassin he’s heard all about in both his mission files and from the conversations of other gang members. When he finally processed her words, he just got more confused. “Why would you help me? What’s in it for you?”

She shrugged. “To show you I really mean no harm? And besides, Nam is just like the empire: old and rotting. It’s suffocating, like a castle surrounded by thorns. I suppose I would have had to tell you eventually, but the empire needs a purging, and I want you to help.”

“You want me to help…rearrange your entire gang system, killing a bunch of people in the process.”

“Or get them arrested. As long as you never go back to the police force, there doesn’t have to be murder involved.”

All this information was making him dizzy. He had been found out as a spy, but Jiwoo wasn’t ratting him out. Jiwoo, snarky, sarcastic Jiwoo, who also turned out to be the best assassin in Boreumdal Pa. Who trusted him with this secret, but who also wanted him to stay and…help.

She must have seen the conflict on his face, for she backed off with the intimidating aura. “You don’t have to make a decision right now, but I really would like for you to stay. You’re really talented, Taehyung, and I’d hate to see that talent wasted at the tiny police station you call work. I’m meeting up with King this Friday, you should come with me. You can decide then, and I won’t hold anything against you.”

Taehyung frowned. Friday. That was in three days, far too little time to make a decision that determined his future after this revelation. Jiwoo got up to leave, possibly to give him some alone time, but he could only respond to her goodbye numbly, mind reeling in shock. After waiting enough time to pass, he got up and exited the apartment, heading for the pay phone two streets down.


	4. IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be updated yesterday, but school started for me and i totally forgot! sorry >_<

Taehyung stared out the car’s window at the skyscrapers flashing before his eyes, feeling as if it was his life flashing before his eyes instead. Jiwoo sat next to him looking straight ahead, showing none of the nervousness he felt. But then again, she was simply on her way to see a friend, whereas Taehyung was quite possibly getting driven to his death.

He considered the options he was given: to bring down King and by extension Boreumdal Pa, or to join King and help him rule over the crime empire. Taehyung’s first reaction to Jiwoo’s proposal had been to refuse, of course, and use this opportunity to complete his mission.

But would it really be terrible to choose otherwise? His job isn’t treating him the best, Jiwoo had proven to be a genuine friend so far, and Matthew…Boreumdal Pa had killed him, but it was the police who had sent him to his death.

His heart is torn - the past months of hard work has led to enough dirt on two of the strongest men in Boreumdal Pa to fall, and without their support, King would fall relatively quickly as well. But the sensation of being free from responsibility, especially moral responsibility? Taehyung hadn’t experienced that since he joined the task force.

The driver cleared his throat, and Taehyung belatedly realized that they had arrived at their destination.

He exited the car to join Jiwoo on the curb, so distracted by the building they were before that he barely noticed the driver speeding off.

It wasn’t that the building was particularly breathtaking - far from it. The skyscraper with its glass windows reflected sunlight into his eyes like any other skyscrapers in Seoul’s white-collared district, blending so perfectly into the background of boring mundane life that Taehyung wouldn’t have given it much thought had he passed it any other day. Certainly, it didn’t look like anything interesting happened there.

Like it housed the boss of the largest mob empire in Seoul.

“Scared?” Jiwoo teased, taking his silence as nerves.

Taehyung exhales, managing a grin back at her. “of meeting the most important man in Boreumdal Pa? Not at all, I eat dinner with mob bosses on the regular.”

Jiwoo raised an eyebrow at him, which made him realize the stupidity of his statement.

“I mean, you probably do, but it’s not a normal occurrence for us common folk.”

The traces of playfulness disappeared from her face as she grew serious. “It could be come a normal occurrence for you, if you choose.”

Taehyung looked away, unable to answer as the weight of the decision sat heavily on his shoulders. “We should go, don’t wanna keep King waiting,” he said instead.

Jiwoo gave him a look, letting him know that she knew he was changing the subject, but she didn’t comment further. “Sure, let’s go.”

Their entrance was rather anticlimactic, and not at all like what he expected an entrance to a mob empire’s headquarters would be like. Besides getting stopped at the front desk for a weapons check, the inside of the building was just as innocent-looking as the outside. Obviously, Taehyung wasn’t expecting a setting that appeared out of a movie set, but with how well Boreumdal Pa hid among the ordinary citizens, there was no wonder why the police had such a hard time tracking them down.

The nondescriptancy of the whole business was one thing he learned during the trip to King’s office. The other thing he learned was just how powerful Jiwoo, or rather, Iri, was in the empire.

They didn’t run into many people during the elevator ride and the walk after, but those that they met in the halls always gave them a wide berth and had their heads bowed deferentially once they got a clear look at Jiwoo’s face. Although she had personally revealed her identity a few days ago, it was still a struggle to reconcile the image of the sassy girl he knew with one of a calculating assassin, making the looks of fear confusing to Taehyung. Jiwoo wasn’t a scary person after all, but then, he’d never been her enemy before.

Taehyung was so preoccupied with trying to prepare himself for the upcoming encounter with King that he hadn’t realized they stopped in front of a door, nearly running into Jiwoo. She shot him a wry smile after keying in the password. “You’re doing so great sweetie, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she told him patronizingly.

“Me? Afraid? As if,” he scoffed back, but their familiar banter helped soothe his nerves somewhat.

She raised her eyebrows in a clearly judgemental fashion before pushing the door open, leaving him the choice to follow or to continue standing in the hall like an idiot.

Again, the office wasn’t anything spectacular, decorated sparsely like any other CEO’s office with a couple framed paintings on the wall in an attempt to show taste, along with a bookshelf off to one side. The only parts of the room that alluded to King’s personality were the walls that were repainted to be a brighter yellow colour instead of the boring white the rest of the building’s walls had, and various basketball-related objects scattered around the office.

Honestly, the presence of the basketball jersey that was on display should’ve been a big enough hint, but nothing could’ve prepared him to face the man that was waiting for them behind the desk.

Taehyung’s heart nearly stopped when he saw the familiar smile that greeted them. Sitting at the desk, with all the ease in the world, was Matthew. Time slowed down, and he would’ve continued staring dumbly at his boyfriend that came back from the grave if Jiwoo didn’t nudge him sharply to bring up to attention.

“King, this is Kim Taehyung. Oppa, that’s King. Don’t idolize him _too_ much now, even kings are human you know,” she introduced them.

“What, I don’t get an introduction?” said someone who was standing behind Matthew. Taehyung was still so busy wrapping his mind around the fact that his boyfriend was alive that he’d barely noticed the fourth person in the room.

Jiwoo rolled her eyes. “And that’s Somin, King’s bodyguard, also known as Hunter.”

Taehyung wasn’t sure what was more surprising: that he had been introduced to so many top-tiered people in Boreumdal Pa within the span of only a few days, or the fact that Hunter was a girl. Just like the Iri persona, he had simply assumed the bodyguard of King to be a guy since they were so influential, and because he seriously doubted the mob would let a girl protect their head.

But then again, he had seen Jiwoo fight before, so perhaps the mob valued skill above traditional gender roles as long as they operated under a pseudonym.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Taehyung-ssi,” Somin greeted him with a pleasant smile. “I’m looking forward to working with you in the future, if you choose.”

Once again, her image in person was totally different from that of her reputation, but by now Taehyung should be used to the constant whiplash. His job itself even revolved around changing his identity, so he doesn’t know why seeing the conflicting personas of other people is suddenly so unexpected to him.

The new information was making his head spin again, and he used the pretense of nerves to rock forward on the tips of his toes.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he managed to reply after pulling himself together.

“Well, now that instroductions are out of the way, let’s get to know each other. Please, sit. I’m sure you have many questions,” Matthew suggested as he directed them towards a small cluster of couches surrounding a coffee table.

There was an awkward and slightly tense silence once they were seated.

“Of course, we know a lot about you since the decision to have you help us was a rather important one for us to make,” Somin began, taking the lead to try and dissipate some of the tension around the four of them. “But you must be curious about us. Besides what Jiwoo told you, is there anything in particular you’d like to know?”

_Yeah. Why me? And what will you do with me if I refuse the offer?_ Unfortunately, given Matthew’s status and Jiwoo’s knowledge of him, he knew the answer to the first question. And given the reputation of the mob, he had a pretty good idea of the second. Instead, he asked, “How did you guys get tangled up with the mob in the first place? No offence, but gang culture isn’t exactly known to respect women.”

The girls shared a look, holding a silent conversation as to just how much they wanted to tell him.

Finally, after what seemed to be a lengthy argument, Jiwoo looked at him again.

“Do you remember the story I told you when we first met?” she began.

“Of course,” he replied immediately, almost instinctively. “You told me you’re the daughter of an influential man in the mob, and that you’re working as the assistant of some drug dealer to make a name for yourself in the empire. I know that last part isn’t true now.”

She nodded, then motioned to Somin to take over. “The first part is true, though. The two of us are cousins, and originally our family was supposed to inherit the empire after the previous leader’s death. Things didn’t go as planned when - well, his name doesn’t matter anymore, since he’s dead. But some influential bastard ordered the assassinations of our family, and we barely escaped the murders. And, of course, since we’re girls, the empire wouldn’t just accept us walking up to the leader and claiming we’re heirs.”

Jiwoo continued the story. “That’s when we met Matt- King.” Taehyung noticed the slip-up, and judging from Matthew’s face, he had, too. “He had the perfect personality and youthfulness to charm his way into the higher ranks, and eventually won enough people over to challenge the leader. And here we are.”

“Right. The way we met him - that was completely by chance, but - ”

“Somin, you don’t have to make anything up. He knows me,” Matthew cut her off before she could spin a fictional tale about their encounter.

Taehyung widened his eyes in alarm for a split second, wondering what Matthew was planning, before he remembered that Jiwoo knew about his cover and therefore likely knew about Matthew’s past, too.

“They worked at the same police station, Somin,” Jiwoo sassed at her cousin.

“Well, excuse me for forgetting,” Somin jokingly retorted.

As the girls bantered back and forth, Taehyung glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been over twenty minutes since he first arrived at the office, and nothing happened yet.

_I have to buy time._ Clearing his throat, he interrupted the escalating argument. “Uh, guys? Sorry to interrupt your fascinating discussion, but what exactly will my role be in the mob?”

“Mostly purge work,” Somin answered, shooting one last mock-glare at her cousin. “Analyzing the profiles of the high-ranking men and determining whether they’re loyal to the empire or not. We figured your skills as a special agent could help with that.”

She had barely stopped speaking when gunshots could be heard a few floors down.

A muffled crash sounded from outside, followed by the shouting of men. More gunshots could be heard, closer now, and the girls shared an alarmed look. Matthew simply stared at him as understanding dawned.

“Taehyung, what’s going on?” Jiwoo demanded.

He could only smile at her apologetically.

☆★☆

_“Three days? That’s too little time to form a raid. You know that, Ace.” Ahn’s voice sounded tinny from the other end of the receiver._

_Taehyung leaned his head against the side of the phone booth, still dizzy and shaking from Jiwoo’s revelation. He shook his head to clear his thoughts._

_“I prepared a week for this mission, Chief. It was practically suicide. I’m sure you already have a team on standby, anyway,” he snapped, the first time he’s explicitly talked back to his superior._

_Ahn sighed. “I’ll have one ready by Friday. There are already teams being put together to arrest Nam and Han, that will happen simultaneous with the raid to minimize suspicion. Don’t destroy the tracker until you have met King face to face, do you understand?”_

_The other end of the line turned silent, but there wasn’t the usual click signalling that the chief hung up. Having worked with the man for so many years, Taehyung could tell that there was something he wasn’t saying, that he was hesitating._

_“Chief?” he prompted. “My time is running out.”_

_Ahn made a vaguely surprised noise. “Listen, Taehyung…your full mission wasn’t just to bring down Boreumdal Pa.”_

_He was about to groan in protest, but something about Ahn’s tone and the way he used his real name didn’t go unnoticed. Instead, he remained quiet so the man could continue._

_“Remember Matthew’s last mission? We thought he was dead. Last year, right before we planned to send you, we received word from a source that he had managed to survive, and even flourish, within Boreumdal Pa. Taehyung…Matthew is King, and we need you to rescue him.”_

_His heart nearly stopped as yet another revelation was dropped on him with no warning. “You’re lying. You must be. Matthew is dead, and the mob killed him.” Taehyung knew his voice was shaking, but he couldn’t help it._

_Ahn allowed him a few moments to collect himself before resuming his speech. “I decided not to tell you since it would likely distract you from your mission. As to whether I am lying or not, well, you will see in three days, won’t you?”_

_Taehyung felt a spike of anger shoot through him. “My entire drive to complete the mission was my hatred for the mob. Now that Matthew is supposedly alive, I no longer have a reason to hate them. You must have guessed that they would offer me a higher position and more power. Why tell me now?”_

_“Because I know you, Taehyung. Revealing this information at the right time is simply an…encouragement. Let go of your resentment for the station, Ace. It’s in the past now. Just focus on your mission.”_

_He gripped the handle of the phone so hard, his knuckles turned white. “I could very well abandon my mission,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth._

_“But you won’t.”_

_There was that familiar click as the chief hung up._

That’s right, _Taehyung thought, letting out the breath of air he was holding_. You know me too well. I won’t.

☆★☆

There were men hitting the door now, demanding it to be opened or else they would break in through brute force.

Jiwoo was looking at him in shock, but instead of betrayal he caught a hint of respect on her face. The earlier alarm was completely gone.

He could only shrug in response. “I’m just doing my job, sorry.”

To his surprise, Somin actually laughed. “Looks like we underestimated you. Never thought anyone would manage to tear down the empire, even with help.”

It was Taehyung’s turn to be confused, before he noted how calm the girls were. Only Matthew seemed to be in the same boat as him. His jaw dropped as everything clicked. “You planned this. You planned to let the mob collapse, knowing full well how to salvage the wreckage. You probably already have your list of loyal people, and relocated your assets to thoroughly cleanse the empire. You weren’t asking me to help purge Boreumdal Pa: you were going to ask me to help rule your new empire.”

Jiwoo pretended to shoot him with a finger gun. “Bingo.” To her cousin, she said, “I told you he was smarter than he looked.”

Despite the situation, Taehyung protested indignantly at the statement.

“Open up! This is your last chance! Release the agents and surrender!”

Somin tilted her head at him. “You gonna let them catch us?”

He rolled his eyes. “Run.”

“We’re on the thirtieth floor, oppa,” Jiwoo pointed out.

Before Taehyung could respond, Matthew laughed. “Stop acting like you don’t have a backup plan, Jyu. Just go.”

Somin was the first to act: she walked towards the bookshelf against the wall and pulled a book, triggering the mechanism to reveal a secret passageway beyond it. The disguise was possibly one of the most cliché in terms of secret passages, but if it could say hidden, well, Taehyung had to give credit where it was due.

Before leaving, though, she casted one last look at Matthew and said, “I’ll miss you, King,” followed by a well-placed kick that knocked him back. “Signs of struggle,” she explained with a wink, disappearing into the hall after.

Taehyung barely had time to react before Jiwoo was punching him in the face. “Always wanted to smack some sense into you,” she told him with absolutely no remorse in her voice. “Don’t expect me to miss you. I won’t.”

He returned her grin. “I won’t miss you, either,” he childishly snarked back.

There was a crash as the poor door was knocked down by a couple of tiny explosives. A group of five armed men rushed into the room, with Ahn at the head. Seeing Taehyung kneeling next to Matthew, who was still lying on the floor from getting his wind knocked out, the chief immediately assessed the situation.

“Ace, what happened?”

“The girls got away,” he explained, sounding truly angry at himself. Really, he deserved an acting award for his efforts. “I imagine you managed to convict Nam and Han, though?”

“Yes, that went well. Mission successful, Ace.” Even at a monumental moment like this, Ahn was a man of few words.

“Search the building for any relevant information. Ace, once you’ve rested up, I expect a report about your mission.” Their chief turned around to properly look at the two of them. “And Matthew? Welcome back.”

☆★☆

Taehyung yawned as he stumbled into the kitchen, past the living room television that was reporting on a homicide that happened two days ago.

“‘The victim has been identified as an ex-member of Boreumdal Pa, the mob that was taken down by a special task force in Seoul three months ago. Police theorized that he had lain low during the initial collapse of the gang, only to eventually be found trying to escape by an old enemy. There are no known leads to the murder so far, but the perpetrator has left behind some sort of calling card…’”

The news cut to show several blurred out images of the crime scene, which was rather redundant in Taehyung’s opinion. A minimized version of the calling card got pulled up in the corner of the screen as the reporter continued to drone on about the case, the face of the distorted joker grinning right at him.

“Good morning,” Matthew greeted him, handing him a mug of coffee as Taehyung wrapped himself around his boyfriend like a koala.

Matthew smiled softly at his sleepy antics and continued his task, which happened to be sorting through mail on the kitchen counter. _Only Matthew_ , Taehyung thought, _could enthusiastically sort mail at eight in the morning._

Taehyung peered over his shoulder to get a better look when Matthew picked up his next envelope.

“Huh, what’s this?”

The envelope was a simple, innocent-looking cream with nothing but their address written on the back and several stamps in the corner. Its shape, a more compressed rectangle than normal letters, suggested the presence of some sort of card.

“Open it,” Taehyung told him, now resting his chin comfortably on Matthew’s shoulder.

The envelope indeed contained a postcard of some tropical island, but something else also fluttered out. Matthew turned the postcard over first, finding neat handwriting on the other side.

_Hello Matthew, and Taehyung._

_This is Somin writing, even though this letter contains sentiments from us both._

_You know by now what our plan regarding the empire was. Boreumdal Pa was old and rotting, and there was no saving it. We needed fresh blood, and the two of you were exactly that, but better. Jiwoo and I have established our own empire with what resources we had left - our own legacy, free from the shadows of the old gang. The mob is growing stronger faster than you guys would expect, I assume, and the offer still stands. If the two of your would like to join us, simply call the attached phone number. We await your answer._

_Hunter and Iri_

_P.S. Taehyung, Jiwoo wants me to tell you that she’s happy she’s finally free from her castle of thorns. Whatever that may mean._

His boyfriend raised an eyebrow at the last line, but Taehyung just gave him a ‘I’ll-tell-you-later’ look. Matthew picked up the other object that was enclosed with the postcard. It was a playing card, with the same glossy texture of normal playing cards, except the joker on it was distorted so half of it was in black and white, while the other half was in colour.

Taehyung couldn’t help himself; he laughed out loud at the brazenness of the girls. He was initially concerned about them after they went off the grid, but he knew for sure now that they could take care of themselves.

As if reading his thoughts, Matthew said, “They’ll be just fine on their own, don’t you think?”

He hummed out an agreement as Matthew untangled himself from his embrace.

“Just leave it on the counter, I’ll recycle it later. Come eat, I made breakfast.”

“Aww, look at you being all domestic and shit,” Taehyung grinned, but lingered by the counter for just a moment longer.

Because before he went to join Matthew at the dining table, he unlocked his phone to save the number to his contacts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i've been working on this for over a year now (not that the actual writing took that long - i just procrastinate a lot lol), so now that this story is finally all updated it feels so weird haha. 
> 
> thank you all so much for the sweet comments and for sticking around for this ride, and i sincerely hope you guys liked it~ i love you guys♥♥ have a fantastic day/night everyone!!
> 
> ~ starjay


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